


Once in Night Vale...

by BondSlave



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, Tentacles, eventual tentacles sex, normal male anatomy, split personality Cecil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:57:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BondSlave/pseuds/BondSlave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[ON PAUSE WHILE I FIGURE OUT HOW TO REWORK THE NEW INFORMATION I'VE LEARNED! SORRY!]</p><p>Cecil Baldwin is openly in love with Carlos the beautiful and perfect (if not slightly naive) scientist. He knows he shouldn't be, Carlos is an outsider; he doesn't know how Night Vale works; he asks to many questions, and Cecil fears that Carlos may bring down the wrath of the shady but totally trust worthy government that is no doubt watching them 24/7. What is a radio host to do? Especially when he's the shadow-puppet-king who knows to much?<br/>A story of Cecil and Carlos and their ever budding romantic relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chosen

Chapter One: Everything seemed Normal.

When Cecil Baldwin was seven-years-old, he ran away from home. But not for reasons that most seven-year-old's ran away from home; he wasn't angry, or upset, or mistreated. He simply didn't want to be in the trailer where he and his mother lived on that particular dark void Sunday afternoon. It wasn't hard for him to sneak out unnoticed; in fact it was all to easy to sneak down the hall and slip passed the living room towards the door. His mother didn't even notice him. Of course, she never noticed him.  
For as long as he could remember, Cecil's mother never paid attention to him. It wasn't that she didn't love him, because he knew for a fact that she did; she always made sure that there was food and water (and sometimes even juice) readily available for him. He never once doubted that his mother loved him, even if she never did pay attention to him.  
If asked what his mother looked like, Cecil wouldn't have been able to answer. He'd never seen her face; or at least he didn't think he had. He could however tell you this: His mother had dark blonde hair, which she always wore pulled back into a messy ponytail. She could often be seen wearing a long sleeved green sweater or shirt, with the sleeves rolled up passed her elbows; an sweater or shirt accompanied by black jeans or a black skirt. She never wore shoes; in fact, Cecil didn't think she even owned any. The only pair of shoes he'd ever seen in the trailer were his worn black and white converse sneakers.  
Cecil could always tell you exactly where his mother was, no matter the time of day. "She's in the living room," he'd say simply, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. "whispering to the wall like she always does." He conclude with a nod of his head. And though he'd never seen her anywhere but kneeling on their ugly green shag rug, hands most likely clasped in prayer, whispering under her breath at the wood paneled wall, he knew that she must have slept, eaten, and bathed at some points.  
He knew that she must have slept, because her bed was always in a state of messiness in the morning. He could say with certainty that she ate, for every two weeks on a Friday there would be money sitting out on the table for Cecil to go and buy more groceries; and he was certain that he couldn't possibly eat all of the food in the refrigerator. And he was very sure that she bathed on a regular basis, because she often smelled of freshly made lemonade; which was the only other shampoo in the trailer besides his. 

\---------------------------------

Cecil paused at the door, hand resting on the doorknob, eyes fixed on the back of his mother's head. She didn't turn, or move, or even acknowledge that he was there; she merely continued muttering to the wall. So, without any hesitation he turned the knob and slipped passed the door. Night Vale was dark that Sunday afternoon, the sky empty and black as the void; though admittedly it did get a little lighter in color the closer one looked towards the sun. Dark shadows were cast over the cracked earth, and dusty road as Cecil stepped out onto the pavement. The air was hot and dry, as usual in their little dessert town. Glancing back at the trailer for only a moment Cecil continued his way down the path towards the gates of the trailer park.  
He passed Mrs. Josie, the slightly older woman who lived in the trailer not to far down from Cecil's own. She was hanging up her laundry, her harshly tanned and freckled skin contrasting greatly with her long, brittle, straw like grey hair. She paused in her work when she spotted him, her green eyes widening slightly. She wasn't used to seeing him out and about, save for every two weeks on a Friday. "Cecil? Where are you going?" She inquired causing him to pause and turn to her. He rarely spoke to her, only ever waved, or awkwardly smiled when she called out to him. Everyone knew that she was crazy. Mrs. Josie believed in Angels, which was a joke; everyone knew that Angels didn't exist. Even her late husband had stated she was a coot.  
"Out to play." He stated with a shrug, toeing a pebble before kicking it onto her dried brown grass. This seemed to surprise her as well. Cecil never played; not outside anyway. He didn't like to swing, or to kick a ball, or to ride a bike. He mostly stayed indoors, reading, or coloring, or watching the few tv stations they got on their small black and white television. It was obvious by his appearance; perfectly combed blonde hair, clear light peach skin, and bright blue eyes--as apposed to the rest of the Night Vale citizens who had brittle, wind blown hair, and dark tanned skin from the hot, hot, HOT, sun.  
"Alone? Your mother isn't taking you?" Mrs. Josie asked, her green eyes darting over towards their small slightly dilapidated trailer. Cecil gave a shrug and glanced back at the trailer before looking back at Mrs. Josie. He shook his head.  
"No. She's muttering at the wall again today, so I'm going to go and play by myself." He stated. But this seemed only to rile Mrs. Josie all the more. Cecil couldn't understand what her problem was; she was a nice enough older woman, but she was so weird. No one else would have batted an eye if he'd told them he was going out to play alone. Why was she making such a fuss?  
"Well you be safe, and don't worry, the Angels will protect you." She assured with a wide smile and a confident nod towards him. "They won't let anything happen to you." Cecil had to restrain himself from snorting or saying something along the lines of, "there's no such thing as Angels you crazy coot? Why can't you be normal and have 97 cats?" But instead, he nodded and waved and turned to continue on his way, Mrs. Josie calling after him the entire time, telling him to take care. Cecil eventually made his way out to the wastes, kicking sand and throwing rocks at cacti.

\-----------------------------

Picking up another rock he narrowed his eyes at the cactus he'd been assaulting, pretending in his mind that it was the mascot for the Dessert Bluffs basketball team. After awhile he became bored and began drawing pictures in the sand with a stick. He knew he should head home soon, it was starting to get late; and once the sun set the wastes would be smothered in complete and utter darkness. With a sigh he righted himself and tossed the stick away, turning on his heal to head back the way he came; but with a start and a strangled scream he fell back several spaces before collapsing into the sand. Six hooded figures were towering above him, their faces shrouded in total blackness. They all hissed angrily at him as his blue eyes locked onto them. His mind screamed for him to look away, to avert his gaze and run--but his body wouldn't obey. He couldn't tear his frightened gaze away from those tall looming figures as they drew nearer and nearer to him; nor could he make his legs move.  
The nearest figure hissed and spat at him as it bent at the middle and reached out a long sleeve towards him. Cecil thought he saw a flash of a white withered hand from beneath the robes but before he could decide if he had or not, a bright flash of light appeared above his head drawing a scream out of him again and causing the hooded figures to ease back slightly, spitting and hissing as though offended. After a few moments they settled down and began wandering aimlessly away, leaving Cecil cowering in the halo of bright light. Quickly spinning himself around he looked up, shielding his eyes with a hand. The light was bright in the inky blackness that sunset had brought over the wastes.  
His heart pounded, his lungs tightened, and fear encased him anew at what he saw. An unnaturally tall humanoid yet featureless figure with flesh as white as porcelain and wispy ghost-like wings flaring out from it's shoulder blades. The figure had no facial features as it turned his head towards him, bending at the waste slightly as if to look at him closer. He let out another scream and began scuttling away from the figure as fast as he could. Managing to get to his feet he began running through the darkness, the bright light which seemed to envelope the figure growing dimmer and dimmer in the distance. Glancing back to see if it was following him he was relieved to find that it wasn't; his relief was short lived however as seconds later he ran face first into a tall ban in a black suit. He gasped up at the man, and before he could say anything he was hauled off of the ground and everything went black. 

\------------------------

Cecil didn't know when he'd opened his eyes, or for how long he'd been starring at the ceiling of his bedroom; but glance towards the curtained window told him it must have been hours. The night sky outside the window was a black void with no sign of stars. He glanced at the small black and white tv sitting on the edge of his small desk. The picture was fuzzy and jumped every no and again as it showed a re-run of The Addams Family television series. He looked back up at the ceiling and yawned, shifting to stretch out his sleepy limbs when a sudden sharp pain shot up his spine. He yelped and curled into himself for a second before sitting up. He awkwardly tried to brush his back with his hands to investigate, but he couldn't feel anything. Frowning he stood and quickly made his way across the hall from his room to the bathroom. He could hear his mother muttering from the living room as he closed the door. Flicking on the light he looked at himself in the mirror. He frowned, purple eyes studying his face intensely. Nothing seemed off, or out of place. He didn't look paler than usual, so no unexpected blood loss. He lifted his blonde hair out of his face to feel his forehead, his fingers rubbing against the purple eye tattoo that lingered there, ever open, ever watchful. No fever. His frowned deepened and he quickly removed his shirt. Twisting around he had to stand on his tip toes to be able to see his back in the mirror. His pale scrawny back didn't look any different. He awkwardly ran his fingers against his lower back, his finger nails dragging lightly across the deep dark smoky tentacle tattoos that curled there. Everything seemed normal. No cuts, bruises, or bug bites. Righting himself he frowned at his reflection. So what was up with that strange pain he'd felt?


	2. science-stuff

"And so, with that dear listeners, I say good night, good night Night Vale, good night." Cecil crooned to the microphone hovering a few inches from his lips. Leaning back in his seat slightly, music began to play and the eerie green glowing sign that read, LIVE, stuttered out and went dark. With a smile Cecil tugged the ear and mic piece from his head, setting it down on his desk with a clatter before standing and stretching out his long limbs. His back popped pleasantly several times causing him to sigh as he turned his attention to his desk. Pushing the equipment aside he began gathering up his not-papers, coffee mug, and sticking his favorite not-pencil behind his ear; with a bit of difficulty seeing as his dark red glasses got in the way. He stuffed his belongings into a black bag before hoisting the bag onto his shoulder and heading for his office door. Stepping out into the hall he paused at the secretaries desk.  
"Great show today Cecil," she praised with a smile, her red hair beginning to fall slightly from the clip holding her bun in place. Her bright blue eyes looked tired, but enthusiastic as she spoke to him. He beamed back, leaning a hand atop her desk and crossing his ankles.  
"Thank you Stacy, I was quite pleased with it." He stated, before glancing at a photo frame sitting atop the young woman's desk. He snatched it up and spun it delicately around, holding it firmly between two slender fingers. "Whose this?" He inquired with a friendly smile as his purple gaze slid over the picture.  
"Oh, that's my little sister, Ashley." Stacy stated, leaning forward on her elbows.  
"She's pretty." Cecil said as he set the frame back down on the desk. "Is she in school?"  
"Yep. She's graduating this year." Stacy said beaming with pride, a pride that made Cecil smile in return.  
"Oh well congratulations to Ashley!" he said cheerfully. "Any idea where's she's going to go to college?"  
"No, not yet. I keep suggesting a local college, but she's not sure." Stacy said rolling her eyes and waving a hand as if Ashley going anywhere else was just silly. "Probably wants to get out of our little city."  
"For shame." Cecil shook his head. "Kids now a days." He chided before smiling again and straightening himself up. "Well, they all end up back here anyway."  
"Very true."  
"Good night Stacy, see you tomorrow." He waved over his shoulder at her and made his way for the door, his black and white converse squeaking slightly on the tiled floor. 

\------------

Cecil didn't own a car, but he didn't mind walking; his apartment complex was only a few blocks from the radio station, and besides, he figured that the exercise would be good for him. The sun had already set, but the moon had not quite risen; and the heat of the day wafted up from the pavement in uncomfortable waves. But Cecil didn't mind; he was used to the heat. He'd been born in Night Vale, and the heat was all he'd ever known. He was accustomed to it, and rather enjoyed it actually.  
The blond radio host hummed a eerie little tune as he walked along the sidewalk, a slight skip in his step as he made his way back towards his apartment complex. As he walked he began wondering what he was going to have for dinner. He didn't have much in his fridge, some stale bread and some old lunch meat; he'd have to go shopping soon. If he got paid that is. Still humming his little tune Cecil began rummaging in his pockets, pulling out his bills and change and adding them up as he walked. Twelve dollars and seventy-three cents; he could grab a slice at Big Ricco's pizza joint. He nodded and paused at the intersection before jogging across the street. He'd only have to back track one street to get to Big Ricco's.  
As he walked, and as he drew ever closer to the pizza joint, his heart began to beat a little faster, and his thoughts began to run wild. Carlos's lab was only a building down from Big Ricco's. Maybe he'd get the chance to sneak a glance at Carlos. He shivered slightly, a light flush warming the underside of his jaw as he closed his eyes and smile to himself. Carlos and his perfect hair. He sighed. The heat did such wonderful things to it. Cecil always loved happening upon the scientist when his hair was frazzled, just to see him pat it down into its rightful place. Carlos wasn't quite accustom to this heat, even though he was Mexican, or Latino, or some other brand of Spanish speaking people. Cecil wasn't quite sure where Carlos family tree hailed from, but he didn't care. Carlos was perfect, and his hair was perfect, and eventually he'd adjust to their heat.  
Cecil glanced around as he stepped over the short barrier that separated Big Ricco's parking lot from the sidewalk. Carlos' car was still there, but there was no sign of Carlos. Cecil felt his heart drop. It seemed he'd have to go another day without seeing his beautiful and perfect scientist. But he cheered himself up with the thought that it was because Carlos was busy with science things, and even if Cecil didn't understand them, Carlos did, and he was sure that they were very very important.  
Entering Big Ricco's, with the little bell chiming above the door to announce his arrival, Cecil found himself frozen in place, the door swinging closed behind him. He felt his heart rate pick up again, and he had to force himself to swallow the lump in his throat. Seated four booths from the door was perfect Carlos himself. He was sitting with two slices of pizza cooling on his plate and gazing blankly out the window. Cecil could barely breathe. If Carlos had been starring out the window the entire time, perhaps he'd seen Cecil approach. Maybe his eyes had flicked over to the blonde for just a moment before he resumed his contemplative thoughts. The mere idea made Cecil's knees shake.  
"Ah Cecil, good to see y'again, what will you have?"  
"Uh what?" Cecil blinked, dragged from his slow muddled thoughts by Santana, the middle aged waitress who worked at Big Ricco's. She was a fair looking woman, with dry black hair that she pulled into a messy ponytail, freckled and slightly lined skin, and big brown eyes. Cecil blinked a few more times before focusing on her fully. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He inquired. She smiled at him.  
"What will you have?" She inquired, tapping her phone, her thumb poised to enter his order.  
"Oh, I'd like a slice of meet lovers." He said with a smile. She punched it in and returned his smile.  
"Feeling adventurous today huh?" She asked as she headed back around the corner to ring up his order on the cash register. He followed her, leaning his elbows on the counter as he watched her work.  
"No, just really hungry." He said with a chuckle.  
"They're keeping you busy over at the radio station huh?"  
"Oh no more than usual. Although I suppose splitting my lunch with a floating cat isn't helping much." He said with a wide smile. She laughed at that.  
"So that cat's still there huh?"  
"Yep. And He's just had kittens! They're so cute, oh you simply should come over and see them; of course you can't though, what with you working here and the station being on lock down all hours of the day and night. I'll take photos and upload them onto facebook." He promised her excitedly before handing her his money and accepting the receipt.  
Cecil made himself sit at least two booths away from Carlos, even though he desired nothing more than to join him, and ask him about his science-stuff. But he was good, he was polite, he sat at his own table and fiddled with the straws. It was only after he'd gotten his food, and a complimentary drink, which he fully intended to pay for, because really, he was a radio host, he needed to show people he was just like them, that he found Carlos sliding into the seat opposite him, pizza in hand. Cecil blinked, eyes wide, throat dry. He stood stiff as the scientist smiled wearily at him.  
"So, I was thinking, we should get together some time." Carlos stated. Cecil felt like he was going to drown; a high pitch squealing noise forcing its way up his throat and passed his stone tight lips. Was, was Carlos, asking him out? No, maybe, oh he didn't know. Carlos always gave him such mixed signals. Carlos raised an eyebrow and waved his napkin in front of Cecil's nose. "Hey, you okay?"  
"Yes! I mean, hmn yes I'm, I'm perfectly, uhm... yes." He mumbled looking down at his plate, no longer feeling very hungry. His stomach twisted and coiled with heat and his heart was pounding against his rib-cage.  
"I thought, that we could get together tomorrow night. I'd like to talk to you about something important." Carlos explained. Cecil felt his heart drop. Oh, he understood. Carlos wanted to talk to him about his latest scientific discovery. Okay, disappointing, but at least he'd get to spend time listening to Carlos being smart. He liked that. Not to say that he was stupid himself, he wasn't, he just wasn't, a scientist.  
"That would be fine. I'll meet you at your lab after work?" He inquired, doing his best to keep the hurt out of his voice; which he did surprisingly well. Usually he couldn't pull the radio host cover over himself in his day to day life, especially when Carlos was around; Carlos just made him feel all girly and bubbly.  
"Sure, that'd be great." Carlos said with a wide smile, showing off his perfect teeth before he began digging into his pizza. Cecil inwardly sighed, poking at his own slice and wishing that he could just slide through the floor; like the gentleman at booth seven seemed to be doing.


End file.
